The Algarve safe house felt like a bunker—low ceilings, thick walls, the kind of place where echoes died fast. Harlan Reed paced the single room, his boots scraping the concrete floor. Julian leaned against the wall near the door, pistol tucked in his belt, eyes on the narrow window that showed nothing but olive trees and dawn light filtering through.Lila sat at the rickety table with Sofia and Marina, the kids—Isabel and Nico—huddled between them, wrapped in blankets. Elena and Theo stood by the kitchenette, Rafael beside Elena, his hand on her shoulder.Harlan stopped pacing. "We can't stay here long. Voss knows I was at the auction. If he's as smart as I think, he's already tracing my flight."Luca looked up from his laptop. "Then we hit him first. The leaks went out two hours ago. Der Spiegel's running it as breaking news. 'Voss Alive: Faked Death Tied to Hale Network Extortion.' I

The sedan's tires screamed as Harlan pushed it harder down the twisting hill road, engine roaring like it was angry. Julian gripped the door handle, pistol in his other hand, eyes locked on the horizon where smoke rose thin and black against the dawn sky."Five minutes," Harlan said, voice tight. "Santos is holding the line. Two of Voss's men down. Your people are pinned behind those rocks—Sofia and Elena covering the kids, Theo bleeding but fighting."Lila leaned forward from the back seat. "Theo's hit? How bad?"Harlan swerved around a pothole. "Leg wound. Santos says he's stable, but they need extraction. Voss is still in play—hiding behind his SUV, directing fire."Julian checked his pistol again—full clip, safety off. "We come in from the north. Flank them. You and me take Voss. Lila—stay low, cover us."Lila's voice was steel. "I'm not staying in the car. Give me a weapon."Harlan glanced at her in the rearview.